Cut Too Deep
by NephilimKyla
Summary: Bella Swan, victim of violent bullying, and suffering from social anxiety, has always been terrorized by the Denail's. And the only way to cope with the building of pain is using the razor; as if self-harm is the only answer. And then new student Edward turns up and like any other teenage girl, Edward takes Bella's breath away. But what if Bella cuts too deep? Who will save her? AU
1. Chapter 1

**CUT TOO DEEP**

**CHAPTER 1**

**BELLA'S POV**

The miniature cosmetic mirror was stuck to my locker. I knew who put it there. It reeked of her usual, daily pranks; her viciousness- clarified with the words which were written on the glass surface in messy scrawl, my reflection not being shown back but the expletives instead. What _was_ it written with? Marker?- No, wait. Lipstick. Definitely lipstick; a darkest red. Bloody, more like. And despite myself, though I tried and tried _not _to look at the words on the mirror, I couldn't help but look.

_You'll just make yourself feel worse, Bella. You'll feel useless, pathetic. Then you'll cry for feeling useless and pathetic. Leading you rushing to the girls bathroom where you'll stay for the rest of first and second period till lunch. It's not worth it._

My sub conscious spoke compassionately; almost to the extent of mockery. A part of me agreed with this. I would get upset. I always do. Some days I conceal the barrier of the 'water works'. Some days the tears slip without my command, making me feel even more cowardly and weak then I already am. But I try to feel bold; not letting Tanya and her minions get to me- too deep, anyway. At least confront them. Yet the social anxiety doesn't help.

_Yeah. Tell me about it._

I mentally slap my sub conscious, peeved off that she's always right.

But I look anyway… I shouldn't of.

_Slut. Whore. Bitch. Loner. Unwanted. Anorexic. Fugly. Bastard. _

And then it started. A single tepid tear ran down the side of my nose, and I quickly dashed it away, hoping no one noticed the gesture. But it was the only one, the only tear that fell. Which I was a little proud of. At least it wasn't like opening a flood gate.

_More like a tsunami._

"Shut up." Muttering to myself, so quiet there was no chance anyone in the hall heard me. Thank god.

Glancing at the mirror of insults once, I rip it off of my locker, tearing the tape off in one swipe, and picking up my backpack and throwing it over my shoulder, clicking the lock in place and in 10 seconds flat, I've left the hall with prying students, all eyes fixed on my face, (and a few sniggers), and thrown the mirror in the trash can. When I turn back, Tanya was there. With her sisters: Irina and Kate. Tanya's face was an ugly, satisfied sneer, Irina's something identical but a little stunned- like she expected me to be crying buckets. And Kate. Was Kate. Like she always looked when things like this happen; sorry. Empathetic. Apologetic. Any those could describe Kate's face in these situations. Or maybe I was thinking too much into it. Maybe she looked bored. Maybe. But either way, she didn't do anything. Pat my shoulder, ask if I was okay, not even a reassuring smile.

"Hey. Are you okay?" I'm brought out of my contemplation with an attractive voice – if you could have an attractive voice – and turn around to find an even more attractive face.

Bronze- a goldeny, reddy, browny colour hair- unique at its most, all unruly and looking like a hand had ran through it millions of times. Mossy eyes, the most woodland intense green eyes I've ever seen. My stare travelled to the distinctive features, towards the rest of the guy's face. Chiselled cheekbones and strong jaw line, like it had been sculptured by the most talented artistic hand. And my gaze toured back to the irreplaceable jade eyes which were looking back at my coffee ones.

Wrenching myself out of my gorgeous daydream, I step back from the Armani model in front of me, and now a little taken aback from his height. He stood greatly at my 5 foot 5. Possibly 6, 2? 6, 3?

"Y-yeah. Yeah, I'm fine." Words, thank fuck, come from my gaping mouth, and all thoughts of unpleasant mirrors and Tanya thaw away when I realise that his hand is laying lightly on my bony shoulder. _Shit!_

The contact scorches through my cotton black cami top and parka jacket, feeling as if a large handprint will be imprinted on my shoulder.

Without a second thought I pull away.

"You sure? I- I saw what- I saw your locker-"

"I'm fine." I snap. I didn't mean to. But I didn't want reminding of what happened to my deflated ego only moments ago.

The guy nods his head, securing his backpacks left strap on his shoulder.

"Edward." He holds his hand out to me. _How polite._

"Oh," I quickly look at his hand then over his shoulder at Tanya, who's mouth is wide open like a fish, no doubt absolutely astonished of why this beauty was talking to someone like me.

I accept his hand. Warm and comfortable. _And god damn, those seducing eyes are looking at me again._

"Bella." We shake and I pull away, hoping to get away as soon as possible. And I do. I turn away and pretend like nothing happened. Not before I hear her voice.

"Hey! Edwaaard! Come here. What are you doing?" Tanya's annoying whiny voice calls to Edward, who apparently he has already met.

"Coming, Tan."

_Disappointment. _That's what I feel. In that 60 second moment with the new guy Edward, and partly because he politely asked if I was okay, I thought he was different. That he didn't hang out with tormentors like the Denali sisters. In more simplicity, _nice._

But obviously not. _You have the luck of a Lepricon. _

Walking into first period, English, I attempt to feel optimistic. The stabbing pain I feel when I get terrorized by The Denali's was still there, like it always was, and after I've had words thrown at me, hurtful enough to make me crack, I let myself suffer and then gradually pull myself together. Like I'm doing now with the same routine.

Miss Marcus wasn't in the classroom yet, and neither were many students. Except Angela. Angela Weber was my best friend at Forks High, and only. She knew about the severe bullying and has strived and struggled with every ounce of persuasion skills she had to get me to tell someone; my dad, a teacher, a nurse even our school psychologist. But I couldn't. I didn't even know why I couldn't, but I told Angela to quit worrying so much, that everyone gets a little taste of bullying in High School. A part of that was true. Everyone got at least bullied once in their life; but not as bad as me. The constant discrimination was not what every teenager goes through- at least not at this school and town.

I knew it was bad. And I knew all I had to do was tell someone; simple as that. But if I told the person and they dug deeper and deeper into the situation and asked more and more questions, they would _find out. _And if they found out, more questions would be asked and eventually I would have to do something about it- see a shrink, have counselling. Except I couldn't. Because then I'd have to confess why I _did it_. My dad would be utterly broken- plus, knowing my dad, he would blame himself selflessly, even though he hasn't done anything wrong. Also, being bullied wasn't the only purpose I _did_ _it. _

"Bella." Angela called from her desk at the back of the classroom, and I walked over to my desk next to hers.

"Hey, Ang." I say, placing my backpack under my table, not before grabbing my copy of _To Kill a Mockingbird _and my notebook. Angela was quite easy to read, and right now she did _not_ look happy. At all. Word must of got around fast about the locker incidence. Now I'm going to get a mouthful from Ang.

"What did she do this time?" Angela's voice was a very quiet growl. Her sweet doll features are pretty and cute, but underneath that she had the patience and attitude of a wild cat.

"If your this angry already, I'm guessing you know." I reply calmly, hoping my tranquillity will make Angela calm is well.

"I heard enough, Bella. Ben told me that that Denali bitch left a personal present for you in your locker. _And_ that hot new guy spoke to you. What did he say? More importantly, what the hell did the Denali skank put in your locker?" Ang hissed as a few more students walked into class before the bell went.

"To put into more simplicity: a mirror stuck on my locker with some words on it- or what can pass as the English dictionary anyway." I tap my biro on my notepad.

Angela's hazel eyes drew into dangerous slits, her cheeks red. _Oh, god._

But almost in an instant, her face softened, feeling sorry for me again.

"Bella… honestly, I've had enough. Who wouldn't? If I were you I would have told someone; to help me at the least," Angela looked down to her desk, and I could see, that her eyes were glassy, like she was holding back tears. Which made me want to break is well. She continued, "I just can't be dealing with seeing you like this, every… fricking day. And you've done nothing wrong- you're as innocent than anything. You did nothing to deserve this…" Angela's voice was a harsh whisper, and at that moment, Miss Marcus walked in, flustered and asked the class to take their seats.

"I'm just saying, Bells, your my best friend, like my sister, and I love you so much… and that's why I _need_ you to tell someone- 'cause I can't keep keeping you like this; I feel responsible!- for keeping this secret. I don't want you hurting. So if you don't tell anyone soon," She sighed. "I will."

And Angela left it at that, giving me a sweet reassuring smile before looking at the front of the classroom.

She was right. God, she was right. And I hated her for that. Because I knew I had too. It wasn't voluntary. It was _compulsory. _I knew also knew that if I let it carry on it would become too hazardous; playing with my life line.

I would use the razors more frequently… and what I was afraid of more than anything… was cutting too deep.

**IMPORTANT-ISH NOTICE!**

**Hey guys!**

**So this is my first Twilight Fanfiction, but NOT only. I have written other fanfictions for another book series.**

**But Twilight has always been one of my favourite and fangirling obsessions. And I mean WAY OTP.**

**But I really hope you enjoy this fanfiction and I know this chapter isn't the most exciting but I promise when the story progresses so will the plot.**

**Soooo, overall, I hope you liked the first chapter and please, please, please review! Even if it's only one word, it means so much to me to know what you think and what I should improve.**

**Thanks so much**

**Love you's,**

**-Kyla X**


	2. Chapter 2

_**IMPORTANT-ISH NOTICE!**_

_**Hey Guys! **_

_**A few reviewers ( who are annoyed, and I do NOT blame you at all) thought that because I haven't updated that I won't be finishing this Fanfic. Now I am here to tell you, I HAVE NOT!**_

_**I know I suck at updating anyway, but all of my Fanfictions I'm writing are not finished and are not done; I haven't given up! But I've got 6 on the go (which is stupid of me) and I need to make them perfecto ;)**_

_**So yeah. But overall, I haven't given up on any of my story's, HOWEVER,**_

_**my Mortal Instruments Fanfic: Being an Angst-Ridden Teenager, IS on hold. **_

_**I'm so, so, so, so sorry about my crappy updating.**_

_**I hope you enjoy this chapter :)**_

_**PLEASE REVIEW AND FAVOURITE IF YOU LIKED IT. Another reason I don't update enough is because I feel like you, my Angels, are not enjoying this story, so please tell me if I'm wrong…or right ;D**_

_**Love you's**_

_**-Kyla X**_

***LINE BREAK***

_Previously:_

_I would use the razors more frequently… and what I was afraid of more than anything… was cutting too deep._

**CHAPTER 2**

**BELLA'S POV**

English, and the rest of the school day went fairly quickly. However, Angela's mantra from earlier was still on replay in my head.

_I don't want you hurting. So if you don't tell anyone soon…I will._

And she was right. I do need to tell someone. It was compulsory.

But the vicious habit was going to take time getting rid of, and the Denali's were not helping.

The end-of-school bell went off a few minutes ago, and walking into the library to collect some last minute books for homework, it was eerily quiet. From the slightly mouldy skylight which was proudly cemented in the centre of the library ceiling, darting raindrops were ricocheting bullets; deafly loud.

_Hopefully if I take my time, the rain would of stopped by then. _I thought.

Yeah, right. With my luck, by the time I'm going to my car they'll be a hurricane.

I still take my time though, and 20 minutes later, I checked out my biology, Creative Writing and Health Care text books and was heading to the student car park. Thankfully, the rain had seized to a drizzle, a few icicle drops entering the gap of the collar of my coat, sending unpleasant shivers down my back.

_Great._

The parking lot was surprisingly, not that empty; students still talking and leaning on pillar posts, standing next to muddied wheel cars and waiting for friends. My red Chevrolet pickup was near the school entrance- rusty with loved age.

But then as my converse-clad feat splodged on the wet cement, I caught a glimpse of the last person I wanted to see- people, rather- who were leaning against their sliver Mercedes. They must of heard the giveaway sound of my walking feet, because a certain strawberry blonde turned my way, her cherry lips forming her signature obnoxious sneer.

I attempt not to make eye-contact, knowing if I did it would make everything worse. When I gradually got to my truck, being as quick as possible, I lob my backpack over onto the passenger seat and shut the door, hastily retreating to the driver's side and opening _that_ door- _SLAM!_

The brash blast of the driver's door being slammed shut before I could fully open it blows throughout the car park. Turning my head, a scorn plastered over an immaculate face was staring at me. Tyler.

Tyler was one of the many of followers of Miss Bitch herself. And he had been the creators of a couple of my torments is well.

"Hold on there, Bells. Tanya wants a word." And at that, Tanya is walking towards me, with Kate and Irina at her side, including a few other minions and…Edward. But he wasn't scowling like the others; just looking sorry and slightly embarrassed. _How considerate. _

"Now," Tanya places a hand on her ribbon-slim hips, glowering, her next words not surprising by the lack of originality, "I knew you were a slut. But I didn't realise _how_ much of a slut." At this, I role my eyes. Like I'd never heard that one before- even though the jabs of insults still hurt, at the same time, I couldn't care less; it was an equal score.

And not a second after I'd rolled my eyes heavenward, I felt the sharp, manicured hand of Tanya clouting on my cheek.

"You better fucking watch yourself, whore!" She screamed, checking her polished nails from the impact from the slap. I know I could feel the impact; a searing throb on the side of my right cheek which was most likely pulsing a bright red. My palm rests against my raw skin which had just been abused, and I fight back tears. Too soon, I catch something in the corner of my eye- or rather, someone- who happened to be Edward. A seconds glance from looking at him showed a face of- disgusted surprise?

"Now you hear me, bitch." Another hand balanced on her hip. "You stay away from Edward. Okay? To be completely honest, I'm tired, and your looking pathetic as usual, so let's just agree that you are going to keep your hooker targeting to other girls boyfriends." Tanya booms her request.

_Wait. What? _

She must mean when Edward came up to me earlier before English. And after the prank. But Edward was the one who came up to _me._

"Tanya. I didn't – he was the one who-" I don't know why I was explaining myself. In a situation like this I would never dare.

But Tanya was having none of it.

"ENOUGH!" She shrieks. "Why do you ruin my life?! Your face, your _presence _just ruins- wrecks everything. Why can't you just stop, you persistent anorexic whore?! No wonder your mom killed herself; I wouldn't even be able to stand having to know you for that long."

Glass. My heart- right there- just shattered into thousands of sharp shards. Never- never in my life- when Tanya and her relentless taunting and brutal verbal bullying had affected me, had she mentioned _that_ piece of information; punishing fact. The tears that I swore I would not let drop, conveniently start to fall and not any sincerity or regret covers Tanya's- or her minions'- face.

And not long after the second tear falls, I catch Edward again, surprising me. His face: ashen and remorseful. A part of me, from only a 2 minute conversation, claimed that Edward was just like Tanya and the other Denali's, including their 'gang'. But looking at him now… my mind is a whirlwind of regrets myself; that I forcefully thought of him of something he wasn't. Then, noticing his left, expensive leather-clad foot making a direction towards me, Miss Bitch takes her claim.

"Whatever. Just stay the fuck away." Tanya scorns, taking Edward by the bicep and hurling him towards her Mercedes, while I get a few final sneers from the minions before they leave the scene is well.

Tanya wasn't a bitch.

She's a monster.

I understood that Tanya used me as a punching bag. With words at least. And I've always despised her of it with my entire being-but- _that_, I don't know what to think.

Although, right now, it's just bringing back unwanted memories; of frustrated and heart wrenching sobs; prescription of anti-depressants; realising one way to relieve the pain of mom gone, and the bullying- was just a simple cut- or two. Letting all the clogged up insults and invectives seep out by cutting, like as if I didn't feel bloated anymore from the mental and emotional pain, so the next day I could be refilled with more attacks.

And now I was even more afraid. Because I knew to relieve myself from this punch-in-the-gut comment, I was going to _start_.

Starting my truck, the recent tears were now coming down like a broken dam; a waterfall. I wondered, only for a second, if I should go driving in my _condition_: on the verge of hysteria and blurry eyes of tears. However, what I was terrified the most of was what I was going to do when I got home. What I promised I wouldn't do.

But I put the pick-up into shift regardless, escaping the what hurt the most.

***LINE BREAK***

When I come to a stop in the driveway-noticing dad was obviously still at work, I grab my backpack, stomach-spraining sobs surging from my mouth, tears the size of golf balls streaming out of my eyes.

It only takes me minutes to unlock the door, and rush up the stairs, tripping twice from frustration and frenzy.

Then not long after, I'm in my room, ripping off my jacket and wiping my raw eyes, crying my vexation. Crying for dad; because Tanya was right; For mom; because I was the reason she was gone- I killed her; And…for myself. Because I was about to do something I vowed I wouldn't do- but I was weak. I was a coward. If you looked up coward up in the dictionary, my picture would be right next to it.

And I sob. Sob and cry, and shout and shriek and holler and weep and sob some more, because that's all I can do; I'm worthless. Just like Tanya said.

The mantra on replay, my hazy gaze flicks to my target- what I need now.

So I walk up to my dresser, opening the top draw and shifting my shaking hand under the few pieces of clothing; and then taking hold of what I needed.

Taking it in my grasp, I take a deep breath, my sobbing coming to a minimum. And I go into cycle mode; the mini timetable of what I followed when I cut.

And I follow it.

I carry _it_ into the bathroom, shutting the door quietly behind. The only sounds now my heavy breathing and the patter of the rain.

Next step: standing in the front of the vanity mirror- giving me unpleasant flashbacks of earlier- I check my reflection- and I am. I am disgusting.

And the final part.

Holding the harsh, un-used razor in my right hand- I cut. A single long gash. It hurts-at first. But then it's easy. The dulling pain represents what I deserve. Glancing down, oozing red spills on either sides of the undid skin, leaking droplets of dark, dark blood.

And this was what I was afraid of- what I did. What I promised Angela and myself. I cut too deep.

***LINE BREAK***

**SO,**

**Honestly, I thought this chapter was**

**1)Boring.**

**2)Shank-worthy.**

**3)I shouldn't even bother updating.**

**But this Fanfic is planned out. And I promise if you'll give me a chance, this is going to develop and be more interesting.**

**Please review – even if it's one word- and tell me what you think.**

**Favourite, Review, tell me what I should do. **

**Thank my Angels**

**-Kyla X**


	3. AUTHOR'S NOTE - IMPORTANT-ISH!

**A/N:**

_**Hey, guys!**_

_**For starters, I know my updating is suckish. And I have no excuses. Except for Christmas and New Year, my mind has wandered. And I have school, but I've always made time for writing. Anyways, An update should happen at the end of this week OR the beginning of next week. I'm still planning the course of the story, and I'd absolutely appreciate it, if you, my Angels, would give me some idea's and advice- but I do know what I'm doing O.O **_

_**I have a plan, but it'd be great to have some of your input.**_

_**Not to mention, I was actually going to talk to you guys when I had updated, but a certain guest, (#SHOUTOUT!), made me change my mind, as this person said that she had been checking for a new chapter for **__Cut too Deep__**, since I last updated. If you were this guest...my heart split in two when I read this. I'm so glad you're enjoying this story as I'm not to confident about it. **_

_**Now- enough with the gloom XD**_

_**Be sure to check for an update, and PLEASE give me some ideas.**_

_**You can do that ;D**_

_**I love you guys sooo much for bareing me.**_

_**-Kyla X**_


End file.
